


Fire Is Where Life Is Made

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Side Rey, F/F, Kneeling, Power Dynamics, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: Rey knows that Phasma’s loyalty is up for sale. She also knows how high the price is, and what happens to buyers when their credit runs dry.One day soon, the Resistance survivors are going to thank her for doing what none of them can. One day soon, if she gets it right, the whole galaxy is going to thank her.





	Fire Is Where Life Is Made

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



The first command Rey issues after killing Snoke is a ceasefire on the remains of the Resistance.

‘I’m not ready to take that step yet,’ she says, and Ben believes her, or else pretends to for the sake of their fragile new alliance.

One day soon, the Resistance survivors are going to thank her for doing what none of them can. One day soon, if she gets it right, the whole galaxy is going to thank her.

(They’re going to learn: the power of the dark side is a weapon no different from any bomber ship or laser cannon. In the wrong hands it breeds chaos and destruction. In the right hands – _hers_ – it can bring rebirth and peace.)

But not everyone on board the _Supremacy_ is as easily managed as Ben.

‘It’s going to fall apart,’ says Phasma. Rey doesn't know why she's chosen this place to make her approach – here in Snoke’s throne room, on the very spot where Rey made the decision that will soon bring balance to the galaxy for good. She keeps her eyes trained on Snoke’s old oculus, staring out with blank eyes at the vast expanse of space. ‘It won’t be your fault – it’s what Ren’s like. He’ll worship you and bow to your every whim right up to the moment you disappoint him, and then…’ She pauses, with an air of delicacy that might be convincing if Rey couldn’t feel the cold tactical focus driving each word from her lips. ‘Well, you saw what happened to Snoke.’

Rey is under no illusions about why Ben has chosen her, or how he’s going to cope when he realises she didn’t come here to serve his agenda. She doesn’t need anyone’s warning for that.

She turns away from the oculus, and her long cloak follows the motion in a rippling sweep. It suits the image she’s trying to project. It’s going to take some getting used to. Rey has never thought of herself as small, but Phasma’s solid frame was made to carry the armour and crimson cape that set her apart from common soldiers. Her disguise fits her perfectly while Rey’s robes billow empty and trail on the ground.

‘I did see what happened to Snoke,’ she says, with a gaze as hard and dark as the polarised visor of Phasma’s helmet. ‘Terrible tragedy, but Supreme Leader Ren and I have both agreed it’s in the Order’s best interests to press on through our grief. If you need help doing the same, Phasma, I’m sure the reeducation department could spare one of its counsellors to talk you through it.’

As she speaks, she wait for the flicker of fear in the Force that will mean her threat has landed. Nothing comes.

‘Thank you, sir,’ says Phasma crisply. ‘Our counsellors do excellent work, but their clearance only goes so far. I’ve always preferred to confide in my fellow commanders.’

She’s good at this. Far better than Rey, which she knew going in: Phasma has made a career, a whole livelihood, out of managing people’s impression of her. Rey’s done her research. She knows that Phasma’s loyalty is up for sale. She also knows how high the price is, and what happens to buyers when their credit runs dry.

This would be easier out in the desert, where they could negotiate their competing agendas with sticks and fists until one of them yielded to percussive trauma. But the First Order prefers to hide its violence under glossy layers of etiquette and discipline. Rey has a long way to go before she understands the intricacies of the system. Luckily, she's not yet at the stage where she can’t rely on Ben for backup if she makes a mistake.

‘Captain Phasma,’ she says, gazing coolly up into the masked eyes of a woman who could orchestrate Rey’s downfall in her sleep if she wanted to. ‘Take off your helmet.’

The face that appears from behind the polished chrome is corpse pale and almost as cold. Rey sees blue-grey eyes and blonde hair framed around a warrior’s chiseled jaw, and the effect is eerily beautiful and only barely more human than the discarded helmet. But the change in Phasma’s mind is more dramatic: Rey feels her hesitation and her flash of vulnerability as she bares herself to a superior’s gaze.

‘On your knees,’ says Rey.

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

This doesn’t come naturally. Rey feels a surge of disgust for the act she’s putting on, and another surge of something else – something warm and insistent that she doesn’t want to put a name to. ‘I said, get on your knees.’

Kneeling down, at least, Phasma is a more manageable height. She tilts her head up to hold Rey’s gaze, a strange picture of caution mixed with reckless defiance.

‘You didn’t come here to confide in me,’ says Rey. ‘I can see your heart – whatever games you’re used to playing with Ren and Hux, they won’t work on me.’

‘That’s what Ren and Hux think, too,’ says Phasma, lips curling into a mirthless smile – this isn’t the first time she’s entered a battle of wills against a trained Force user. Rey’s well aware that her advantage can only take her so far. ‘But with all due respect, sir, you’re wrong. I came here to speak openly.’

'Then speak,’ says Rey. She won't let herself get distracted by the thrill she feels at the sight of Phasma kneeling before her. She won't.

Phasma bows her head, a submissive gesture that rings hollow given what Rey can see of her inner thoughts. ‘Your change of loyalty is a farce,’ she says. ‘You didn’t come on board the _Supremacy_ to prop up Ren’s ambitions or the First Order’s mission. Whatever you’re planning, you’re going to need support, and I came here to make sure that you’ll know where to look for it when the time comes.’

'And why do you care where I look?’

'Because,’ says Phasma, looking up at Rey through white-blonde lashes that frame her eyes like dappled beams of light. ‘I think we have a few things in common. I didn't come here to serve the whims of power-hungry men, either.’

There's fire in Rey's bloodstream that the danger signs can't quench. 'You’ll serve me?’ she asks.

'I will, sir.’

'You understand it won't be easy to earn my trust.’

Phasma’s smile turns warmer. 'If I thought it would be easy, I promise you I wouldn't offer.’

It's a bad idea. An alliance doomed to end in bloodshed. But, Rey tells herself, it's only temporary - a holding measure while she learns the ropes and amasses the power she needs to bring the whole First Order to its knees. Until then, Phasma can kneel to her in its stead.

The Force yields to her probing touch. Phasma’s mind is guarded and her gaze is steady, but the shaky breath that escapes her lips is all Rey needs to hear.


End file.
